Chapter 1 — From Grandmother to Capitalist Queen

Tan Hai city, a winter night. The banquet room on the top floor of the Asian Financial Center tower, crystal chandeliers as brilliant as the galaxy falling down. The three hundred guests were all prominent figures in the political and business world, dressed to the nines, toasting, hiding the undercurrents of capital and power.

“Next, I would like to present the Most Influential Businessman of the Year award — Co Dinh Xuyen, Chairman of Dinh Xuyen Group!”

The sound of applause rang out like thunder. Lam Tri Y sat in the second row of VIP seats, her back straight. The misty blue silk satin evening gown accentuated her elegant swan-like neck and shoulders. She raised her chin slightly, the corner of her lips curled into a small smile — this was the muscle memory she had trained during her seven years as "Great-Grandma". On stage, Co Dinh Xuyen received the trophy. His tailored dark gray suit accentuated his sturdy physique. He has a very attractive appearance, bright eyebrows and eyes, angular features. At the age of forty-two, he conveys the calmness of someone who knows how to control the situation.

“Thank you to the organizers, thank you to each colleague of Dinh Xuyen Group.” His voice was warm and magnetic. His eyes swept across the stands and stopped in a certain direction for a few seconds.

Lam Tri Y caught that pause. But she did not follow his eyes. Seven years of marriage taught her one thing — some things, it's better not to see them than to see them.

“Finally, thank you to my family.” Co Dinh Xuyen held up the trophy and nodded slightly in her direction.

The sound of applause rang out again. Mrs. Tran, sitting next to Lam Tri Y, leaned closer and lowered her voice full of jealousy: "Tri Y, you really make people jealous. The young and talented General is family-oriented. If my old man gets a tenth of that..."

"Mrs. Tran is exaggerating." Lam Tri Y smiled and interrupted, raised the glass of champagne and took a sip.

Air bubbles burst on the tip of the tongue. Slightly bitter. The awards ceremony entered the dinner party, the band played the melody *Moonlight Lover*. Lam Tri Y sat upright in the chair, the phone screen suddenly lit up, it was a message from her assistant Duong Duong. *[Duong Duong: Sister, I sent the photo to your email. Are you sure you want to watch?]* Lam Tri Y did not answer immediately. She put down the champagne glass, tapped her finger twice on the table before typing again: *[Send here.]* She stood up and walked towards the bathroom, her high heels stepping on the marble floor, her rhythm still calm and steady as usual. In the closed bathroom, she opened her email. There are a total of seventeen photos. First picture: Co Dinh Xuyen's car was parked in the basement of a luxury apartment complex at eleven o'clock at night. Second picture: He hugged a woman's waist as she entered the elevator. The woman was wearing a khaki-colored jacket, revealing her slender, white calves. Third photo: Side profile of a woman, long curly hair, soft facial features — is To Van Tinh, Director of the PR department of Dinh Xuyen Group, who just took the job three months ago. Lam Tri Y scrolled through each photo one by one, her fingers not shaking at all. The last photo is a sneaky angle shot from outside. Through the undrawn curtains, two silhouettes intertwined in front of the ground-level window. Co Dinh Xuyen's shirt had two buttons undone, To Van Tinh's arms wrapped around his shoulders, like a vine wrapped tightly around a tree trunk. She stared at that photo exactly thirty seconds. Then she turned on the faucet and poured cold water onto her wrists — this was her habit when she was stressed. Water flows through the skin, cold spreads along the blood vessels. The woman in the mirror was thirty-four years old, with delicate makeup, a few small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, but overall extremely well-maintained, saying she was twenty-seven or twenty-eight would not be an exaggeration. Her eyes were beautiful, black and white, clear, but this moment was as quiet as a puddle of stagnant water.

“Lam Tri Y.” She looked at herself in the mirror and called out, "You already knew, right?"

Three months ago, To Van Tinh joined the job, Co Dinh Xuyen personally interviewed, breaking the recruitment tradition. Two months ago, he started working overtime continuously, and also went to the company on weekends. A month ago when he slept with his back turned to her, she smelled a strange perfume on the collar of his shirt — not the Jo Malone Wood Sage & Sea Salt she usually used, but a sickly sweet scent, like gardenia. She is still waiting. Waiting for real evidence, waiting for myself to gather enough determination. The phone vibrates again. *[Duong Duong: Sister, there's one more thing. To Van Tinh was pregnant. My friend who worked in the obstetrics department saw that on the medical records system, the person who created the file entered the name Co Dinh Xuyen. 12 weeks pregnant.]* Lam Tri Y's finger holding the phone suddenly tightened, her joints turned white. Twelve weeks. Three months ago — the week To Van Tinh accepted the job. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes, the ice under the puddle seemed to have crumbled, and a fire burst out from the crack. She reapplied her lipstick — pure red, three parts darker and brighter than the original pink. Then she walked out of the bathroom, crossed the hallway, and pushed open the side door of the banquet room. The band just changed the song, it was a Tango. The lights dimmed a few degrees, and in the middle of the dance floor, there was a man and woman dancing together, attracting many people to watch. The man is Co Dinh Xuyen. The woman is To Van Tinh. She wore a wine red deep V-neck evening dress, her early pregnancy body did not show any signs, her waist was slim, and her steps were light. She looked up at Co Dinh Xuyen, her eyes could not hide the admiration and dependence, like a proud peacock spreading its tail. The surrounding crowd whispered.

"Who is the woman next to the General Co? She looks strange."

“The new PR director of Dinh Xuyen Group, I heard he has very good abilities.”

"Ability? No, look at Mrs. Co..." Someone rolled their eyes towards Lam Tri Y and then quickly moved away.

Lam Tri Y stood in the dark corner at the side door, no one paid attention to her. She looked at the couple on the dance floor and suddenly burst out laughing. The smile is very light, very faint, like dew on a glass window in winter morning, beautiful but cold. She carried her skirt and walked through the crowd, neither quickly nor slowly.

“Let me borrow the sugar for a bit.”

“Excuse me, let me pass.”

She walked into the middle of the dance floor. The rhythm of the Tango just turned to a climax, Co Dinh Xuyen was holding To Van Tinh's waist and making a turn. The moment he turned around, he saw Lam Tri Y. His hand was stiff. To Van Tinh also saw her, a flash of panic flashed through her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a carefully designed look of innocence.

“Dinh Xuyen.” Lam Tri Y stood three steps away, her voice was neither high nor loud low enough for people on the edge of the dance floor to hear, “Your tie is askew.”

The entire auditorium was silent for a split second. Co Dinh Xuyen let go of To Van Tinh's waist, expressionless and reached out to touch his tie: "Is that so? Maybe when dancing..."

“Let me help you.”

Lam Tri Y took a step forward, reaching out to adjust his tie. Gentle movements, intimate posture, just like any thoughtful wife. Long fingers slid through the silk, tying a perfect Windsor knot. Finished, she took a step back and nodded in satisfaction.

“It's done.”